Grinded Knifes & Swords
by Origami44
Summary: A doctor and a barber. Both law abiding citizens whose job is to contribute to society, right? Maybe not if your a pirate or have revenge on your mind. So what happens if you clash the Surgeon Of Death with the Demon Barber of Fleet Street?


Docking near a hidden cove close to a southern town, The Heart pirates had never been so pleased to be upon dry land. After leaving the last island in a bit of a hurry (no surprises why) they'd had no time to stock on supplies or fix the submarine, which still had vulgar bulges and scrapes tainting the yellow coating near the left side after a sudden hurricane storm. Most of the journey had been a nerve racking experience as there was barely enough food to sustain them for the week long voyage. As well as this, they had to consider the marines who could still be hot on their trail. Though now they were on dry land, they could at least replenish what was necessary and repair their vessel.

"Captain!" A voice rang out. One that was a few octaves higher than any normal man could manage.

Turning, Trafalgar Law raised an eyebrow at his first mate Bepo who had been the first out, claiming it was to hot inside (as always). He also seemed to be the epicentre of everyone else's annoyance, because due to his thick white fur he sweated profusely and any crew member that witlessly got too close had to 'share the suffering'. So far he had grappled almost the entire crew down at some point in the week where he sweated on them- much to their distaste- and wouldn't let go. In fact, only the captain had never been sweat hugged by the bipedal bear.

"Has everyone been assigned their jobs?"

"Yes captain. Everybody, follow me though not to close, you stink!"

A chorus of 'Shut ups,' rang from the crew who were still irritated by Bepo's previous behaviour, this was soon followed by 'I'm sorry' from the polar bear, now with his head bowed low. This was such a common procedure that Law didn't even stay to hear the whole company shout "So easily defeated!" and walked away.

The island was a small scrap of earth surrounded by the heavy blue about a week away from the famous Shamrock Shanty; a huge island in the shape of a shamrock with a huge prosperous town and small rotting huts near the outskirts. It was also the island the Heart Pirates had just escaped from. Despite all that had happened though, they were still near the beginning of the Grand Line where the real adventure begins for all pirates.

Luckily, the town was situated quite near the cove and since there was hardly any rough terrain, Trafalgar Law soon found himself walking through the busy, dreary and dirt infested city. He decided to start by finding an apothecary (though that was easier said than done) and he had a feeling that it would be a long search. It was around that time that a sudden sensation hooked the public's attention where in one of the streets, a shop was apparently 'reopening' its business. Most of the buildings looked decrepit and dust ridden with faded lettering at the top and musty windows looking out. But this one seemed to have been given a clean and looked both polished and almost cheery. As he strode past he could hear two men talking about it.

"…yes, went to that pie shop last week. Used to be a ruddy old thing selling ruddy old pies but now, they are the crown of this town with the whole world and his wife eating there. Good ale to…"

Not caring much for pies or food for that matter, he walked on thinking he'd eat back at the submarine when he was hungry. However, while passing he clocked that the shop had a second floor with a rusty barbers pole silently twirling next to it. He could do with a shave. Still, medical supplies came first. After all, he was a doctor.

Most of the pharmacies there had limited medicines so he had to make do with what he managed to get.

Just before the escape, there had been a battle with a base full of marines. Law's crew won, but sustained quite a few injuries with some including broken bones and shattered ribs. It was about two hours later and the dank clouds still prevailed but at least the streets were a tad quieter than before. Whilst he was there, he had noticed that the town held a workhouse and an asylum which was strange as those sorts of buildings should have been abolished long ago- well at least to the public. Stepping out of the submarine where he had brought back the medical supplies, he noted the rest of his crew had stocked up quickly and left for wherever. After thinking about it he remembered the barber shop just above the pie emporium and thought why not.

Underneath her now famous Pie Emporium, Mrs Lovett stood gazing at her last batch of pies which she had just taken out of her gargantuan oven. A stench like no other coursed through the air but she just told any workers who asked that it was the smell from the sewers rising up from the drains nearby. All in all she was pleased with what had been built, and all because of her new attendant upstairs. Strange man, with a dark background to boot. But business is business and besides, there was certain admiration for his skill and craft. Sighing, she wondered when her next supplies would come. The problem was that although it was always in abundance- it came whenever it liked. The last cluster of customer's had ransacked everything which now left her with 12 measly pies for the dregs who came late.

As she climbed back up her stairs and through the basement floor doors, she noticed out of the corner of her eye a character with dark skin, a white spotted hat and a yellow hoodie which clashed violently with the sombre scenery move upwards towards the barber shop.

"Hmmm, maybe I won't have to close the shop just yet." She thought.

As he walked through a crooked, thin door; a small chime rang out from the doorbell. Law, looking around, realized he was growing accustomed to this decrepit fashion that seemed to be in every building and inescapable. Rotting, peeling wallpaper and ugly planked floor boards held it together along with a slanted roof and many random beams positioned precariously in place. An old table top held the usual barber ingredients but what caught Law's attention was the barber's chair which seemed to have some sort of mechanical work done to it. In the centre of all this, a pallid man with a rigid stance and hair that would put a dying crow to shame turned to face him.

"Ah, a customer. So, what do I owe the pleasure sir? A facial massage perhaps or just a trim?"

The barber looked the man from head to toe, feeling his eyes water at the sudden tsunami of colour that enveloped him. Now, often in an ordinary street Law wouldn't stand out so much in terms of colour or fashion, but what he held in his right hand certainly would. Locked in a simple black sheath with small white crosses etched into the workings, a nodachi as thin and long as a black dragon's tongue was being held lazily in his right hand and on the corresponding shoulder. To add to his outlandish appearance the parts of his arms that weren't covered exhibited a variety of tattoos including the World Government symbol. The most obvious being the letter inked on each of his fingers on his right hand. Then again, the barber could hardly talk. To match his bird's nest hair style and pale skin, there was his smile; a crooked crack which seemed to be laughing at some hidden quip and sliver of silver to the side of his head. But his most abnormal feature was his eyes. A polluted grey colour that looked average, but every now and again, small shafts of insanity's scorching light, pierced through. Staring at each other, they were both far from mundane.

"Just a shave, Mr…?"

"Todd, Sweeny Todd."

"Mr Sweeny Todd."

The barber guided his hand towards the chair for him to sit on before heading to the desk to make some shaving lather. Quickly, he looked around and found a small bench right next to the table and decided to keep his weapon there, close at hand. Easing into the chair, Law noticed a trap door right behind where he was sitting and, after thinking about the layout of the house, realized it wasn't exactly above the Pie Shop. This meant that the trap door led to the basement or underground, though in all honesty it looked pretty pointless. After all, what would you need with a door from the basement all the way to the second floor?

Sweeny Todd turned around and started to apply the shaving foam whilst asking a few questions.

"I couldn't help but notice sir, but that symbol on the front…"

"My Jolly Roger."

"Ah, so you're a pirate. Yes, come to think of it, I saw you in the paper a couple of days ago."

"I suppose your crew are here somewhere."

"Somewhere." Law agreed.

He had now finished applying the foam around his goatee and was just stencilling the best way to do this with his shaver. Another strange point was the utensils he used. Instead of an electric or even standard razor, he utilized old fashion knifes for his job. Made of chase silver, they seemed to scintillate brighter than any light the sky could possibly give.

Finally, after figuring out the motions, he started to shave.

"In all honesty though, if not for your emblem, I never would have guessed you were from the sea."

Raising an eyebrow to this, Law asked why.

"Well your hands for a starter, they aren't much callused at all. They seem almost…smart and deft. Almost like hands from a-"

"Doctor?"

"Precisely."

"Well, for a start I am a doctor. A surgeon in fact as well as a captain, and the reason my hands aren't callused is because I own a submarine instead of a ship."

"Ah, that would explain it. Actually, might you be Surgeon of Death, Trafalgar Law?" Law nodded his head at this.

"Hmm, I suppose you are quite strong and have a wanting for the sea. Though, it must be quite lonely, what with leaving your loved ones behind?"

Law felt no such thing. He had no real feel for people to call them 'loved ones' and the only people he cared about were his crew.

"And also there are the marines. Always after your blood they are."

At this Law couldn't help but smirk. He had always thought part of the fun was in the chase, not to mention the fight and besides, the marines could make great test subjects.

As he was doing the last stroke, Sweeny said "I guess there are the bounty hunters as well. Yes, many would think it be doing a favour to the world by slitting your throat."

It was then that Trafalgar Law jumped. He had been silently curious about Mr Sweeny Todd but that sudden change in his character showed what he had really planned, no wonder he didn't use razors. His polite and amiable demeanour was gone and only the flickering insanity was left. He had been quick, but not quick enough to kill him, only a slight graze to the neck could be seen. A quick shifting of light showed that he had unsheathed his nodachi but there was barely enough room for a normal katana, let alone a sword almost as long as he was.

At this, the barber hit a small metal pad and he could feel the floor dropping from beneath his feet as well as see the chair straighten out and turn into a sort of slope. But as he fell, he grabbed onto Todd's shoe, taking him down with him.

The floor was far and hard, but that wasn't what made Law's lungs vomit. It was the smell. An acrid and metallic stench which pervaded the air and wrung at his throat like a noose. He recognized it almost immediately and grinned as the barber got to his feet.

"Business going well I suppose." Law said.

The demon barber only gave him a dark look before reaching for his shaving knife. A furnace was burning merrily near the back and there was a meat grinder to the far left hand side.

Quickly pacing over to the grinder where his nodachi had landed, Law looked in. There was barely anything left except the bloody remains. Deftly picking up a small, bone ridden slab of flesh, he examined it. He quickly realized that it was a portion from a hand with opposable thumb still attached. It was the texture though that finally confirmed his suspicion. Grimacing, he dropped it back into the grinder where it fell with a wet plop on the cold metal.

"Who knew meat was so difficult to get in these parts. At least its organic though." he chuckled to himself as he grabbed for his nodachi.

The cooking cellar was a lot larger than the second floor upstairs and with proper stone footing; he didn't have to concern himself whether the floorboards would hold out whilst fighting.

After a painful heave, the barber staggered to his feet. His once pale skin had gone a shade recognized in fermented milk and against the fires distant glow its flames happily shimmied in the black irises of his eyes, giving his insanity even more depth and texture. A small lump like a volcano was forming on his forehead with lava dribbling down his cheek in a merciless river. Smiling in a slightly derailed fashion, the demon barber raised his weapon and charged.

Law only needed to swipe his blade to stop the barber's knife but due to the nodachi's surprising length which weakened his brute force and Sweeny's strength, he couldn't smash it out of his hands. So now they were locked in a standoff with each other.

"Good fighting skills, useful with a knife. If you weren't trying to kill me I would have asked you to join my crew."

"And I still would have declined. I have had enough of sailing and besides, I have some unattended business here."

"Oh, so you aren't just doing this for the profit. But for revenge." Law's eyes glistened knowingly. He only received a glower in reply. In one fluent motion, Law stepped back breaking the standoff before spearing his sword in the barber's direction.

He dodged and crashed against the wall, hard.

"Nice reflexes as well." He once again chuckled before turning round and grabbed his sheath, heading for the nearest exit. There was no reason to stay; he only came for a shave.

The demon barber was propped up against the wall and was about to get up and take another swipe at him when Law cocked his head to the side.

"Maybe once you've finished him of, you can join my crew" His face was contorted into a sadistic smirk and the centre of his eyes glinted maliciously. "Until then Mr Sweeny Todd, Thanks for the shave. The payment I think we both know will be the control I have over your…business." He grinned even wider.

"But, might be best if you clean up after yourself." He stared at a deep filthy red smudge of coagulated blood just below the trap door and felt the slight slit in his throat. Then, he waltzed up the steps and opened up the same horizontal wooden door before passing through the shop in an irritatingly casual fashion. Leaving behind one dumbstruck pie seller and a bloody barber in his midst.

As Trafalgar Law walked out, Mrs Lovett quickly ran down the steps to find Mr Todd slumped against the far wall, panting slightly. Hands on her hips, she added another stain to her burgundy dress.

"'ere, what was that all abou'?"

"He knows."

"You Wha'!"

"He knows, about…this." He scanned the room and she realized what he meant. Dropping to his level, Mrs Lovett looked him in the eyes with a serious expression on her gaunt face. Suddenly afraid, her unruly red hair, held in messy bunches looked even worse and the whites of her eyes stood out against her tired face.

"Will he tell?"

Silence.

"Mr T, Will he tell!"

He shook his head after considering it for a moment. If he was going to tell, he wouldn't have blackmailed him, not to mention the fact he even advised him to get rid of the evidence. Sighing with relief, Mrs Lovett got back to her feet.

"Well, that's alright then. In all honesty I'd quite like to keep this good bit of business going thank you very much. Mr T, you getting up?" After another moments silence, she sighed. She wouldn't be surprised if he was thinking of that damn judge again, despite what had happened mere moments ago.

"C'mon you useless sod. Let's get you sat down, see if Toby hasn't drunk the last bottle of gin." She grabbed him and raised him up before leading him up the stairs and out of the cellar.

"Guess the shop's closed for the while, seeing as my main supplier is out for the count."

"TOBY! Come down 'ere and help out Mr Todd."

After reaching his submarine, Law checked to see his crew all stocked up and ready to leave, and with the Log Pose set he gave the order to dive. Now sitting in his navigation room, surrounded by beeps and clicks with the huge screen looking out into the deep, he overheard a pair of crew mates who were passing by, chatting about the island.

"Stank to high heavens and the houses looked like they were about to fall down."

"Yeah, I agree. Still, the pies there were real nice. Ate three of them in one go and Bepo ate six!"

"Ha, what was it called again? Mrs Lowits, Mrs Loveheart's…"

Law paused from his work for a moment and wondered. Before issuing a dark laugh at the thought. You really couldn't beat human flesh after all.


End file.
